


Greater the Risk

by SaffronClover



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Jealousy, Love, Marriage Proposal, Oral Sex, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:56:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2787476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaffronClover/pseuds/SaffronClover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an unexpected offer presents itself, Cullen and Inquisitor Trevelyan have to examine how important their relationship is to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The room was stifling. Whether that was from the braziers, the nobles gathered, or her court dress Clover could not guess, but it was slowly putting her to sleep.

            She had been holding court all morning, and this time it was so mundane. Usually it was about a captured enemy, or their keep being attacked by flying goats, but this time around it was mostly about small disputes among the troops. It probably didn’t help that she spent all night doing research, but she was the Inquisitor and she had business to attend to.

            Her back ached from having to sit so rigid for so long, thank the Maker she had good padding on her throne. In the back she heard the droning of the noblemen as her last order had been called: A small squabble over a betted game. _‘Can they settle this themselves?’_ Clover thought to herself. _‘Makers Breath, it’s like watching children.’_ Whatever the case, she was done and could carry on with her day.

            “Is that all, Josephine?” She asked to her advisor. The young Antivan woman smiled at her in the formal way she does and tipped her head.

            “Yes, that seems to be all the petitions...” But before she could finish her sentence a masked Elvan woman ran up to her. The young woman was dressed in the garb of an Orlesian servant. She handed Josepine a small piece of paper, and dashed off back toward the entrance. The room murmured again in confusion.

“There seems to be one more…” Josephine said almost apologetically. Her eyes scanned the paper, and her face went from confusion to surprise. “Your Holiness, it seems we have been graced with the unexpected presence of Marquis Benoit of Orlais.”

Clover exchanged a look with Josephine, but was cut off before she could get the words ‘Who is that?’ past her lips.

“Now presenting, Marquis Beniot, blooded Chevalier and fifty-fourth in line to the throne of Orlais!” A masked crier read off a parchment.

The crowd parted as a masked man made his way to the front, and stood before the steps to the throne. His mask was that of silver, with onyx stones lining the outside. Three raven’s feathers sprouted from the side, giving him the distinguished look of an important man. His hair, from what she could see, was short and dark brown. He was dressed in the silver and black finery Orlais was known for. An ornamental rapier hung at his side, it’s hilt silver and gemmed with black stones.

“Your Worship.” He said with the strong accent of an Orlesian nobleman, and a deep bow. “When the rumors of your beauty reached my ears, I had to see you for myself. It seems they were mistaken…”

He paused, letting the nobles behind him tither with whispers. “You are not a beauty, but the embodiment of perfection itself. The Maker seems to have let his mark across your delicate skin.”

Behind her Clover could hear Leliana stifle a laugh. Clover knew she was no beauty, quite average really, but she let a small smile slip at his attempt at flattery.

“Thank you, Marquis Beniot. To what do I owe this visit to my court?”

“I, and my house, pledge our loyalty to the one ordained by the Maker, sent by Andraste herself.”

This time Clover gave a genuine smile. Allies were rallying to her side more and more each day. “Wonderful news, we thank you Marquis for the chance of Alliance. However a long trip from Orlais to our humble Skyhold must be more than just a bid for a Union.”

He smiled under his mask and nodded. “As smart as you are lovely, my lady. I have come baring gifts, and I wished to present them myself.” He motioned with a hand, and through the crowd four masked men stepped forth. Unsheathing their swords and getting on one knee they bowed their heads. Clover could hear the nocking of an arrow on bow behind her as her Spymaster prepared herself for an assassination attempt. In the corner of the room she watched as Commander Cullen halfway unsheathed his sword, holding it at the ready.

At all this the Marquis smirked; It seemed he was enjoying the attention. “To house Trevelyan I give four of my personal guard. These men have each saved my life and shown a fearlessness in battle only worthy of your Holiness.”

He motioned his hand again, and five masked elves, two women and three men, stepped forward. “Five servants from my own personal summer home, to serve you at your every whim.” He stepped to the side and pointed out the door he came in. “Outside your hold stands fifty of my best Chevaliers, and fifty of my best stallions. They are all battle hardened and ready to give their lives for Thedas.”

The Inquisitor’s eyebrows shot up and her jaw dropped slightly. The nobles have given her such gifts: A couple servants here, gold there, some times they sent their own warriors. Never had she been given so much by any nobility.”

“Those are very… wonderful gifts Marquis Beniot. More than we have been given before by anyone.” If Clover had learned anything about Orlesian nobles, it was they were always trying to outdo one another.

“I have one final gift, your Worship.”

She gave a small smile. “More? My dear Marquis, I do say you’ve given me more than I think our hold can handle.” The Inquisitor half joked.

“My Worship, may I approach?” He motioned to the steps. Clover’s eyes flitted to Josephine, looking for a sign as to what was appropriate. The advisor’s eyebrows were up in surprise; apparently not a normal thing in court.

Never one to insult, Clover nodded and the Marquis ascended the few steps. He knelt down and pulled her hand into his, planting a small peck on the back of her hand. “I gift myself to your Holiness, that through the bond of marriage you and I will take down this ‘Coriphyus’ and all he threatens Thedas with.”

With that the murmur of the court erupted into loud talking and shouting: Exactly what he wanted.

The Inquisitor was stunned. She had received marriage proposals from nobles before, but they were always through letter. Leliana and she would giggle like little girls, Josephine would divulge all the gossip on said nobleman and they would send a polite decline as reply.

This time it was different, and through all the excitement she heard Cullen’s voice ring out to silence everyone.

Clover broke her gaze from the smoldering brown eyes behind the mask and looked up to her advisor. “Josephine, is this the last bid?”

The dark Antivan woman took the hint. “Ladies and gentlemen of the court, this concludes the Herald’s hearing.” Her voice echoed in the hall.

By that time the Marquis was down and back with his men. Clover stood and with a couple short steps was already in Josephine’s ear. “What should I do?” She asked in a worried tone.

“This is very unorthodox, your Worship. The Marquis is very bold to come here and announce his desire for your hand. Chances are he knows you are a very in demand woman and wished to make an impression.”

“To which he has succeeded.” Came the melodic voice of Sister Leliana. She had a small smirk on her face. “The man came all the way from Western Orlais baring fantastic gifts. The least you can do is talk to him.”

Clover gave a small whine, very much like a displeased dog. “But…” She searched for a reason to deny him, to flat out tell him that her hand was not on the market, but she couldn’t find one. “I haven’t had my lunch?” She knitted her brows together at her two advisors.

Josephine gave a small sigh and motioned a serving girl over. “Go clear the Chantry garden, and set out a small plate of cheese and fruit for the Herald and Marquis Beniot.”

Clover gave out another small whine.

“Inquisitor, your emotions give too much away. This is part of The Game: charm is your sword and a controlled face is your shield.” Leliana reminded her.

The Inquisitor wrung her fingers together nervously and searched around the room. Her eyes caught the Commander, who was feverishly giving orders to two young recruits. His brows were knit together in an irritated fashion with a hand clenched on the pommel of his sheathed sword. With a wave of his hand the two were off, and he stood alone, a hand going down the front of his face in exasperation. His steel gaze softened when he met Clover’s eyes, and she quickly looked away.

“Okay, fine.” She said with a sigh. Clover smoothed out the front of her dress and pulled herself up straight. When she entered the garden, she noticed for the first time just how serene it could be. The statue of Andraste stood over it like a protector, and she watched as a butterfly fluttered from flower to flower. She let out a content sigh as she relaxed her shoulders. “Maker give me strength.” Clover prayed under her breath.

“My Lady!” Called out the voice of the Marquis. Clover nearly jumped in her skin and the peace from before fell from her mind. She resisted picking at her nails when she strode over to where the Marquis sat.

He was on a stone bench in the middle of the garden. A plate of cheese and fruit was on a simple stone table in front of them, and two goblets of fine red wine.

The Marquis stood and bowed. “You have an impressive hold here, Your Holiness.”

“Thank you, Marquis Beniot. I have a more impressive staff working nearly round the clock trying to improve living conditions. You don’t know what state Skyhold was in when we discovered it.”

At that moment the Inquisitor and Marquis both noticed something strange: She was looking down at him.

“You are… much taller than the tales tell.” The Marquis commented, his tone trying to be as polite as possible.

It was true. One or two inches could be easily disguised with the proper footware, but she stood a good six inches above him, enough to see an unsightly bald spot beginning to form.

The Marquis and Inquisitor sat down, at least that eased the tension on the heigth difference.

Clover smiled into her hands, and suddenly remembered her manners. "Thank you for your contribution to the resistance. Since the war ended more and more nobles have been coming to aid us."

"And I would have come sooner, had the war not impeaded us. My brother, may he rest at the Maker's side, wished to send you reinforcements sooner. Sadly the Empress would not give up the throne."

"Oh? You supported Grand Duke Gaspard?" She said with feigned surprise; most noble Chevalier ended up on his side of the war.

"Of course!" He paused a brief second. "Do not be mistaken: I love my Orlais and I loved my Empress, but she never took action when it was needed. All she wanted were parties, to wear pretty dresses, and play with Elves. We needed a leader who would take action against the ones who wished to rise up against the natural order."

The Inquisitor reminded herself to steel her face, and nodded. _'Natural order, what garbage...'_ she thought to herself. "I do agree that we needed someone in power who would take this threat seriously." She remembered the Elf Briala, in her bard gear and mask. She remembered the Elvan girl allowing a smile as they shook hands, a smile which meant their alliance was going to change for Elves in the Orlesian Empire.

The afternoon drug on as the two chatted. The Marquis regaled old war stories from his youth, talked about his vast amount of wealth, even had a little gossip about court and the goings on of The Game. Clover kept things polite, by smiling, even forcing out a laugh every now and again. She was late to whatever Game the nobles played, but with the help of two of her advisors she was learning quickly.

The sun had begun making a slow descent over the wall, casting the garden in shadows.

"Oh dear, look at the time." She said with feigned surprise. "Have we been chatting all afternoon? The day has simply flown by for me, and I still have so much work to do." The lie nearly dripped from her lips. "I can not overstate how much we needed the troops you have sent. We owe you much."

Marquis Beniot bowed low. "Of course, Your Worship. I and my house are at your disposal, and I do hope you consider my proposal. I have much to offer a lady such as yourself." He paused, looked around and leaned in. His voice took a sultry tone. "I am also well versed in the art of love-making." And as to drive his point home, the Marquis put his hands on his hips and gave a very slight pelvic thrust.

"Makers Breath!" Clover said in surprise. Her jaw dropped slightly and her eyebrows shot up. The cool composure she had built had been broken by his unexpected, and vulgar comment. She felt the blush creep up her neck and to her face: She was now redder than her hair.

The Marquis only winked at her, and strutted out of the garden. 

It took Clover a minute to compose herself. If he wasn't a man who had just contributed more to the war effort than most nobles, she would have given him a piece of her mind. 

Taking this moment alone Clover shook out her body, and shared a few choice words of frustration with the bench.

Soon she was out of the Garden and back in the throne room. Save for a few workers on scaffolds around her, the room was empty. The fires in the braziers blazed and warmed her up, making her skin prickle. She could go to Josephine, who no doubt was in her study, and fill her in on her rendezvous with the Marquis. However at this point she didn't have the energy to regale everything talked about. The giggling and rolling of eyes was going to have to wait until the morning.

Instead she was going to see the man she would rather give her attention to: The Commander.


	2. Chapter 2

_Instead she was going to see the man she would rather give her attention to: The Commander._

 

 

The Inquisitor crossed the courtyard, climbed the stairs to the battlements and into the Commander's room... but he wasn't there. His assistant was stacking books in the corner, and seemed reletively surprised by the Inquisitor's appearance.

"If Your Worship is looking for the Commander, he's at the training yard settling the new troops."

A quick thank you and Clover was off again.

When she reached the training grounds she saw the troops practicing with sword and shield. She spotted Commander Cullen helping a new recruit how to hold a shield against a demon. He hadn't spotted her yet, so she leaned against the stone wall of the battlement and watched him work. She enjoyed watching him when he was training. He would bark orders at a soldier, or show another through a set of maneuvers, sometimes he would even jump into the sparring ring whenever some wily new recruit was getting cocky. Very occasionally she would see him flash a smile and laugh at an idle comment from a recruit.

It was nice to see him in his element.

Ascending the battlements and onto the sides training ground, she waited patiently for the Commander. Normally it didn't take him long to see her, and when he did he'd give a small smile of recognition. This time it was different; he never acknowledged her, never even looked her way. He seemed to purposefully be avoiding her gaze. It was not for too much to do either, as he stood looking off into the far distance with his arms crossed.

Still Clover waited while a new set of knots coiled in her stomach.

It wasn't long until one of the recruits tapped on the Commander's shoulder and pointed her way. She saw Cullen square his shoulders and hesitate a moment before moving to her side.

"Your Worship?" He said dryly, still not making eyecontact.

"I haven't seen you since this morning. I wanted to make sure everything was going smoothly with the new recruits."

"Everything is going as planned." He said in a short manner. Their relationship was anything but a secret around Skyhold, but they still kept things professional in front of the troops. Still, he was acting much stranger than Clover liked.

"Cullen, if you have time tonight I'd love to see you." She said, forcing a small smile.

"Are you sure you won't be at your summer estate?" He asked, with a spiteful tone in his voice.

The smile on her face disappeared and the knots in her stomach tightened. The words left a sting in her chest, leaving her unable to reply.

The Commander let out a sigh and uncrossed his arms. "Look, I need to get back to my troops."

"Well when you're ready to talk like an adult, you know where to find me." and with that she turned away, and marched from the training grounds, all the while feeling Cullen's burning gaze on her back. Still she did not look back.

Eventually she found her way back to her room. As soon as she opened the door she was greeted with the smells of spices and wine. Her lady-in-waiting, a fourteen year-old girl who had been orphaned while escaping Haven, had set up a small pot of hot spiced wine.

"Some hot wine, to chase the chill away. And some food." She gathered a section of skirt in her hands and wrung them nervously. "Oh, and Lady Montilyet came by earlier. She wanted to go over what you and the Marquis discussed in your.. um... outing."

Clover sucked in a deep breath and slumped her shoulders. "Please tell her that I won't be in any mood to chat tonight. It's been too long of a day." She picked up an already poured goblet of wine and breathed in, taking in the exotic scents. "When you're done with that, you may have the rest of the night to yourself."

Before she could get another word out the young girl was out the door to run her message.

The Inquisitor sat down on the divan in front of the roaring fireplace, and pulled her legs under her skirt. She leaned on the armrest and idly sipped her wine, eyes not leaving the fire. While the flames danced in front of her she thought back to happy times with Cullen. She thought of how her heart fluttered the first time they kissed, and how he made her feel the first time they made love. She remembered when he summoned the courage to ask her to dance at the Orlesian Ball, and just how good he smelt.

That was the Commander she knew. Whatever attitude he was tossing at her today was born out of fear. Maybe he was scared of losing her to the Marquis? What a silly thought.

Whatever it was she would not worry, there was too much which needed her attention now. With every sip of her wine the knots in her stomach loosened until she was fully relaxed, and slipped peacefully into sleep.

It wasn’t the footsteps that woke her, but the clanking of logs in the fireplace.

Clover opened her eyes to see the large figure of Cullen stoking the fire. She watched silently as he poked the new logs in and willed the fire to start up again. Despite the low fire warmth enveloped her, and that’s when she realized a thick blanket was over her.

“Thank you.” She said sleepily.

Cullen jumped slightly and turned to face her, anxiously rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to wake you, you just looked cold.”

“I didn’t think I’d see you tonight.” Clover said as she sat up and stretched.

Cullen, much like earlier, was still not looking at her. However his face held shame instead of frustration.

“I’m sorry.” He said, finally looking at her. His shoulders slumped and eyebrows came together in a worried bunch.

“Come, talk to me.” Clover patted the seat next to her, inviting him to sit down. “What exactly are you sorry for?”

“For being an ass. I shouldn’t have acted like that to you, said those things.”

A smile spread across her face, and she put his hands in hers. “I love you, Cullen. There’s no need to be jealous of the Marquis.”

“That’s not exactly why I was angry.” He said.

“Oh?”

Cullen paused for a moment and bit his lower lip in thought. “Tell me: Why do you love me?”

She raised both her eyebrows and sat back against the armrest, drawing her knees up. “Are you doubting my affection, Cullen?”

“No, not really. I just… You’re nobility. You come from a very wealthy and influential family. You’re also the leader of the most powerful army in Thedas. You managed to end the war in Orlais, have brought both Templar and Mage together under one roof, and have single handedly inspired all of Thedas to fight against a common enemy. On top of all that you’re hand picked by Andraste herself to save this world.”

“And?” She asked, expectantly.

“And… I guess my question isn’t _why_ do you love me, but _how_? You’re all these wonderful things, yet you love an ex Templar commoner who abandoned his vows. I hold no title, no land, and fighting lyrium addiction. Not to mention I don’t even own a home. If it weren’t for the Inquisition I wouldn’t have a place to lay my head. I’ve been with the Templars since I was thirteen, and hardly have anything to my own name. There’s nothing I can provide for you, Clover.”

Clover let a small, sad smile crease the side of her lips. A hand came up and cradled his cheek, and he allowed himself to lean into it.

“I’m not worthy of your love.”

“Cullen…” Shaking her head, she leaned in and kissed him gently. “I have been in the Circle longer than I was with my parents. I may be born into nobility, but I have no idea how to _be_ noble. I’m an apostate mage who owns nothing but the clothing on her back, and everything I have is due to the Inquisition. Even then I am only the Herald because I was in the right place at the right time. You, however, were strong enough to survive the abominations in the Ferelden Circle. You rallied your men against Meredith and helped Kirkwall stay in one piece. You are a brilliant leader who inspires his men to do great things, and have made our troops a force to be reckoned with. Yes, I may have men and women all over Thedas who want my hand, but the only one I wish to spend my life with is you.”

Only a second of silence cut the room before Cullen closed the gap between them.


	3. Chapter 3

Only a second of silence cut the room before Cullen closed the gap between them. Without warning the Commander leaned forward and took Clover’s head in his hands. He kissed her softly at first, letting his tongue caress her lower lip. She responded in kind while he lowered her back on the divan.

While they kissed Clover neatly pulled his feather pauldrons back, and unbuckled his chest plate. They both fell to the floor, the metal making a soft bang as it hit the rug.

Cullen began to kiss down her neck while his hands worked on the ties of her gown. He unlaced the top, and peeled it back to expose her small breasts. The air hitting her bare skin made her prickle, and her nipples hard.

Cullen took one of her small, pink nipples in his mouth, and gently grazed it with the tip of his tongue. Clover closed her eyes and allowed a moment to enjoy her lover’s attention.

Slipping off a glove the Commander began to run a bare hand up Clover’s leg. He drug his nails along her thigh, leaving small scratches along the way. When he reached the top, the tip of his finger traced her hip, and down her inner thigh to the mound of red hair between her legs. He pressed firmly with the heel of his hand, all the while tracing her wet opening with his middle finger.

The Inquisitor let out a small gasp at his touch and bucked her hips lightly. “Oh, Cullen…” She purred.

The Commander smirked and left the attention of her breasts. Placing his cheek against hers he nibbled at her ear. “Give me an order, Inquisitor.” He said in a husky voice.

“You know what I want.”

“Yes,” He placed another kiss on her chest. “But I want you to tell me.”

Despite her Commander’s hand being up her skirt, this was what made her blush. “You’re joking.”

A sly grin crossed his face, “Indulge me. I want my orders.”

She gave a small chuckle and rested her head back. “Pleasure me, Commander.” Her hips rolled against his hand. “I want to feel your fingers in me.”

“As you command.” He said into her skin. With the heel of his hand still on her clit he slipped a finger into her.

“Maker, you’re wet.”

All Clover could do was moan in approval. His rough, callous hand probed her walls. Her hips seemed to move of their own accord against him, giving him the smallest suggestion of where to go.

Soon he put another finger in, and then a third. Cullen watched her writhe against him in complete bliss.

Her moans became louder with each passing moment. Eyes squeezed tight she gripped the wood trimming on the divan like her life depended on it. Soon she felt herself reach her peak. Clover let out something between a cry of pleasure and a curse as her body went rigid.

Cullen could feel the rhythm of her orgasm, and slowed his pace. A smirk played on his face, knowing it was he who made her feel that way.

A moment passed before Clover opened her eyes again. She looked down at her lover, who looked thoroughly pleased with his self.

“Well, don’t you look content?” She teased.

Cullen pulled her up and into his arms, making sure to cover her up. “Oh, I most certainly am.”

“As you should.” She nuzzled his scratchy stubbled neck and kissed him gently.

Rarely did they ever get a moment to enjoy the silence together. Life was so busy, their days consumed with endless treaties needing to be signed, troops to prepare, missions to fulfill, and nobles to be appeased. Most times they snuck around the Keep like two rebellious teenagers. Even at the beginning Cullen had to make excuses as to why he was in her quarters till all hours of the morning.

“You mentioned something…” Cullen started, a bit too low under his breath.

The Inquisitor looked up at him with a questioning gaze. “I’m sorry? Did you say something…?”

Cullen cleared his throat nervously and shook his head. “No, nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Cullen. That’s why you always loose at Wicked Grace.” She could see his ears turn red from embarrassment as he curled his lips in.

“Everyone knows Varric cheats. I swear I see him hiding cards…” He stopped. “Anyways, it’s nothing important.”

“Oh sure.” Clover said in a not-so-convinced tone. “If you have to say it, it’s important.”

He ran an ungloved hand through his hair. “I don’t know what will happen if we defeat Coriphyus. I mean, as in what will happen to _us_. As far as I’m concerned, I would wish to stay and command the troops.”

Clover raised an eyebrow at him. “There was a notion you wouldn’t?”

“Well, no.” He said nervously, his eyes flitting away from her. “Oh for Andraste’s sake, why can’t the words come out right?” He sucked in a deep breath and looked back into her blue eyes. “You said out of anyone you wished to be with me the rest of your life. Did you mean that?”

This time it was Clover’s turn to be sheepish. “Oh, you caught that? I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

A chuckle escaped Cullen and she smiled. “How come?”

            “Well…” Clover looked down at her gown and began to pick under her nails nervously. How was she going to tell him she’d imagined them always together? How was she going to say she loved the idea of him as the father of her children? How during meetings she would doodle his last name after her first like a child with a crush?

“I’ve thought about it a lot. How much I, _maybe_ , would want to be with you in marriage…” She trailed off. The blood shooting up to her face was making her burn hot.

Not for the first time Cullen was speechless. Here sat a woman whom he loved dearly, who watched him struggle through his lyrium addiction, through all of his fits, who had seen him at his weakest yet still wanted him.

“Clover,” He said softly. He put a hand under her chin and gently tilted it up to look at her blushing face. “You would want me for a husband?”

All she could do was nod, but that was all he needed. In one motion he had her scooped up into his lap, and into his embrace.

“Be my bride, Clover.”

“Of course I will.” She said, smiling into a kiss.

            Cullen had the idea of taking her to the bed, but before he could pick her up she slinked down to the floor. Wordlessly she began unbuckling the plates of metal guarding his legs.

“What are you…?” He questioned, but was only answered by a smirk and sultry eyes.

She untied his boots and pulled out the laces, followed by his socks.

“I have something I want to do.” She said, pulling herself up to her knees and undoing his belt. Her fingers were so nimble, and quick at getting his pants off, Cullen wondered if she had any skill in picking locks.

There he stood, stiff as a board. ‘The Tower’ she nicknamed it.

“Sit back and relax.” She purred.

Cullen did as she commanded, and watched as she began stroking him. “You may need to come up highe-“ but he was cut off by surprise when she licked him from shaft to head.

Clover noted his gasp, which she took as a sign of approval. She took the tip of his cock in her mouth and slowly began to lick around his head.

The Commander reached forward and located a string at the back of her head and gently pulled. An ocean of curly ginger locks spilled out, adding to the background of the fire. His hand remained cradling the back of her head as she took more of him in her mouth.

“Merciful Andraste…” Cullen moaned. He watched her suck, lick, and massage his cock. He knew he shouldn’t let the Herald do these things, he half thought to stop her, but he couldn’t deny how much _he_ was enjoying it.

Cullen let go. He let go of all the teachings of what’s “right and wrong”, what the Chantry thought was sinful, what was bad. Cullen gave himself fully to her handiwork.

“Clover, I…” He tensed up his body as he felt he reached his point.

At that moment she stopped and stood up. Cullen looked up at her with pleading eyes, telling her not to stop.

Instead of continuing Clover pulled herself up and straddled her lover. She attempted to find his cock in the mess of her skirt, but so many layers, so many folds were in the way.

“Damn blighted thing.” Cullen said with pained frustration. He found the hem of her skirt, and with one motion ripped it from bottom to top. The very sexually frustrated warrior practically shoved the dress off, leaving them both naked.

Without missing a beat he guided her hips over his cock, and pulled her down, penetrating her still wet opening.

Clover gave a surprised gasp as he pulled her down until his full length was in him. She gripped his shoulders as she quickly rutted herself against him, faster and harder with each motion.

“Don’t stop, love. Fuck, don’t stop.” Cullen pleaded with her. He looked up at the flame haired beauty, and he couldn’t hold it back anymore. Taking her hips with both of his hands he pushed her down, and held down as his orgasm pushed itself into her.

For a moment they held each other close and shared a sweet kiss.

This was going to be his bride. This mage, this woman was going to be the mother of his children.

She smiled as if she knew what he was thinking about.

After a bit they both lied down on the divan, still naked but covered by the blanket.

“Maker, I need to propose more often. Where did you learn to do _that_?”

A smirk played on her lips and her cheeks reddened. “Leliana. I asked for some tips.”

Cullen gave a chuckle. “I think a fine bottle of wine needs to be delivered to our Spymaster in thanks.”

“I’ll tell Josephine to make the arrangements.” Clover jested. “Ah, about them. Lets keep our arrangement between us. Not that I’m not excited, but right now there are other things with need our attention. And you know how enthusiastic Josephine would get over a wedding. She’d be simply beside herself with the plans.”

“Good idea. We’ll announce it when the time is appropriate.” He gave a large yawn and closed his eyes. “I do enjoy our little secrets...”

And with that he fell into a peaceful rest, with Clover not too far behind.


End file.
